Nine Months
by Nodoka-sama
Summary: Pan's pregnant, which means restless nights and endless bickering for Trunks. So, what's left for him to do? Well, guide you through nine months of course... [Chp 2]
1. Month One

**Disclaimer—**I do _not_ own DB/Z/GT...it's not fair!!!

**Quick Note—**This is complete and total AU. It was done for fun and to have something to work on if as well. All entries are from our irresistible Trunks Briefs, have fun. I hope you enjoy and review!

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**Entry One:** _Surprise._

It's official. I'm going to be a dad. A _dad_. How scary is that? And what was worse, I was the last to know.

Earlier today, my sister, Bra, had thrown a grand dinner party in honor of her daughter's third birthday. Yes, it felt like just yesterday Bra was complaining to Pan, Goten, and I about her eight a.m. Lamaze classes and swollen feet. And now, our little Ohri is three years old...and still bratty and spoiled since the day she popped out of that vagina.

Anyways, everyone was there, and everyone was celebrating. And, out of the forty guests there, Ohri somehow decided to torture 'me with her wanting to constantly be in my arms.

It all started with her doing her usual, screaming and running about the house, until she slammed into the back of my legs and landed back on her seat. But instead of bawling like I thought she would have, she just looked up at me with those huge blue eyes (blue like Bra's) through the mass of raven-black curls (black like Goten's).

Then, she raised her little chubby arms and said, "Umph!"

Which I think in baby language means, "Pick me up, you bastard!"

So I picked her up, shuffling her around a bit in my arms because she wouldn't stop squirming. She kept laughing in that girl-like squeal, slamming her little hands on the top of my head. I think my hair amused her.

Having put up enough, I set Penelope down. The second her feet touched the ground, she let out a piercing squeal. Why couldn't she have gone to Goten? Or anyone _else,_ for that matter? Why me?!

But before I could make my escape and run away, my ancient father, Vegeta, walked in and gave a nasty little look at her.

"Careful, son," he told me, "once she gets used to you, she'll turn your hair into _this_," and he pointed up at his scalp with two patches of long black hair that was standing on its end.

I was horrified. And seeing that dinner was already eaten and the cake already cut, I decided to go haul Pan home before Ohri had the chance to turn my hair into my fathers. I made my way into the living room, with Ohri infused to my right leg, and I made a mental note to leave my hair down the next time I visit the Sonfamily.

And there she was. Pan, looking all pure and serene was she stood and chit chatted to Bra and Marron. She was a sight for sore eyes. I picked Ohri up and scrambled through the crowd towards her. But then I bumped into someone who let out a bellow of a surprise.

"Well, lookie here fellas!" Ubuu shouted. "We got ourselves a father-to-be!"

"No, no," I say, lightly patting Ohri's butt. "Just an uncle."

Ubuu chuckled, slapping me hard on the back. "And in nine more months and you'll be a father!"

"O...kay," I chuckled nervously, confused.

Ubuu nudged me by the elbow and gave me a serious look. "Don't worry; I know how you feel, buddy. My wife's pregnant too."

"Oh, there she is!" Bra squealed. "There's my birthday girl!" And she came running towards me with claw-like hands and plucked Ohri from my arms. "Hey big bro, you'll be a great father! Ohri never likes to be held by anybody."

All right. That's it. If I hear someone call me a 'father' just ONE more time....

"Hey, Trunks!" Goten hollered. "Or should I say big daddy?"

"PAN!" I yelled.

"Yeah?" she stood by my side and slipped her little hand over my arm.

"We're leaving," I took her by the hand and hurried her over to get our coats. "I _knew_ Bra put something in that cake because I was feeling a bit woozy after one bite, and I'm right! Everyone here's gone mad calling me a father! Can you believe it?! A 'father!'"

"Well, I believe it because I missed my period," she said calmly. "I'm three weeks late."

I dropped my coat.

"I'm pregnant, Trunks."

And then, I think for the first time in my entire life...I fainted.

I woke up with a wet towel on my head and Pan sitting next to me looking shocked. She asked me if I was okay, and I said yeah. She asked me if I wanted to go home, and I said yeah.

So we went home, we went to bed, we had sex, and I was more than better.

But I can't sleep. I'm wide awake and I can't help but wonder: What kind of 'father' will I be?

_-Trunks_

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**Entry Two:** _A baby discussion._

Work was hard. Especially after one long, _surprising_ weekend.

I enter through the double glass doors of my office building, brief case in one hand and the morning paper in the other, and the first thing I notice is the absolute silence of the office area...which was odd. Usually, the office was bustling with life with all the hollering and screaming, the constant ringing phones, and other whatnot.

When I looked up I saw blue balloons...everywhere. And what was worse, everyone's attention was on me, and everyone was smiling.

Then, the huge roar of, "Congratulations!" was emitted from the massive workforce. I was almost blasted back into the hallway I came from. News sure does travel fast.

It was quite shocking, but I couldn't help but feel...pretty happy. It's kind of nice being treated nicely now that I am a future dad. Some look at me with happiness in their eyes, some awe at me, and then there's the few that look at me in utter surprise, surprised that a beast like me is going to be a father.

But I think I was happier at the fact that I didn't faint this time. Oh, the humanity. It's hard enough on me already at having to face all my hardass-robust-mighty friends after my fainting incident. Yes, _I_ just had to go and be the wimp to faint at his wife's pregnancy proclamation.

But I'm over it. Just a little. Okay, I'm not. But sooner or later I will be.

After work, Pan and I had a long nice chat about the upcoming baby. I asked her about her birth control pills, and she told me that it was only 98 something effective.

Can you believe that..._98_? So that meant we got sucked into the 2! I felt betrayed. Damn birth control manufacturing companies and their damn 2.

But, Pan also told me that she's been wanting a baby for quite some time now. She said it gets boring with me being at the office all the time. She said that work doesn't fill all her needs. And she said a baby was just the medicine.

She's really happy and she really wants this baby, but she also wanted me to be happy and wanting the baby too. She said that my fainting at the party really made her feel bad. And then she started to frown, giving me that hard look in her brown eyes.

I can't stand seeing Pan frown. It made me feel guilty and shameful and hurt...okay, mostly scared. She does have a bad temper.

I told her that the fainting was all from the exhilaration from the party. Too much wine, plus too much of my sister's bad cake, plus too much of Ohri, PLUS the pregnancy information was all an overload on my behalf.

I told her that I would love to have this baby because it's going to be part Pan and part me. A mixture of us both.

I told her I would love this baby as much as I love Pan for having it.

And once I was done, Pan started to laugh and she held me close.

And I love it when she does all that.

-_Trunks_

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**Entry Three:** _Morning and mourning sicknesses._

Today, I had experienced one of Pan's many mourning sicknesses. Oops, scratch that. I mean _morning_ sickness. Though, I do believe there is a double meaning to it. It's _morning_ for the mother, but _mourning_ for the father. _I_ sure mourn every time Pan makes a run for the bathroom...and drags _me_ along in with her.

"We're going to experience this baby together," she tells me.

"Course, sweetie," I tell her, wiping hair off her damp forehead.

"Wherever I go, _you_ go."

I nod.

"If I'm in pain, _you're_ in pain."

I nod again. This is going to be the longest nine months of my life. (And the probably will be the most exciting.)

But I can't help but wonder: Why the hell _do_ they call it 'morning sickness'? It sure as hell happens in the morning, but throughout the rest of the day she's _still_ puking.

Just yesterday I had taken Pan out to an expensive sushi restaurant for dinner as a token of my utmost gratitude. She ended up ordering seven of the most expensive courses on the menu. I didn't mind at all. She's the one sacrificing her beautiful body to nurture our baby, so she may eat whatever she wanted. And I had the greatest time watching her inhale all the sushi like there was no tomorrow.

And this morning, she threw it all up.

-_T.B.V._

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**Entry Four:** _Cold feet._

I have cold feet. And when I mean cold feet, I literally mean, _cold feet_. I can't sleep, and my feet won't stop shaking.

I'm lying in bed next to a peacefully sleeping Pan and my feet won't stop shaking. I've put on three pairs of socks and the damn things are still fidgeting like mad! I don't want to disturb Pan, so I'm laying here with my blasted feet hanging off the bed. And now...I think the shaking has crawled up to my ass.

What will it be? Stay in bed and continue to shake and risk stirring Pan up from her sleep and suffer her hideous wrath, or go to the couch. Pan has been moodier lately. I think I've received two fat bruises on my arm from her all in one day. A third will be bad on my husky male ego (as if my fainting wasn't enough). So on to the couch I go.

The word "father" keeps reappearing in my head, and for some odd reason, I'm frightened by it. I couldn't concentrate at work. During meetings I'd stare out the window, wondering what would happen to me and Pan's relationship with this new baby.

Would we still be the same? Would she still be the same loving Pan who brings me fresh coffee in the mornings to wake me up? Or would she be so caught up with baby businesses that she wouldn't have time for me?

The thought itself frightened me.

I guess while women go through the nine month pregnancy stages, men do too. Yes, that's right; we men have our own little stages. Different, but just as painful. One for example is having your wife drag you to the bathroom and then watching her barf up the meal that you are currently consuming is quite painful. Of all the things I've lost, I've lost my appetite the most.

Another thing is stress and worries about the future. I feel like my youth and freedom had been taken away from me. But all that I can handle. What I can't handle is having Pan being taken away from me.

-_Trunks_

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**Entry Five:** _First prenatal appointment._

Today was our first clinical check up. And like Pan said, everywhere she goes, I go. And never before had I felt so...out of place.

It was at the Memorial Hospital on ninth floor in room twenty-seven. And in that room we remained and waited for nearly an hour. Before we arrived there was a bit of an emergency with another couple and had to been seen right away. So there we waited in amidst of babies crying and mother's shushing. Pan sat next to me flipping through a pregnancy magazine while I just sat and tried my best to play the obedient husband and not complain.

I was bored completely out of my mind, but I wouldn't dare touch one of those magazines. If I see another graphic display of a vagina or read another column on how to breast feed, I'll go insane.

Ubuu and his wife, Marron, were there; they were already done with her check up and were making their way out when we caught them. So, they were the emergency couple. Ubb smiled warmly and bid us hello, but looked tired and pretty shaken up. Marron was already towards the end of her first trimester, currently in her third month, I believe. (I know this because I overheard her tell Pan.)

Ubuu told me that his wife had a bit of Antithyroid Autoantibodies found in her body, which attack parts of your body or your own tissues that can result in miscarriage. Prednisone is now prescribed to her that can decrease the number of multiplying autoantibodies and limit any other risks. We chatted up until the nurse came out and called Pan's name. We said our goodbyes and wished them well.

The nurse led Pan and I to a bright white room and told Jun to disrobe entirely and put on a pajama top that had no back, so I had a grand clear view of her ass. The nurse turned to me and told me I could either wait in the waiting room or stay with my wife. I felt uncomfortable and I felt queasy and I wanted out.

"I'll just...be out there," I told them as I made my way out.

But Pan caught me roughly by the elbow and gave me a menacing look. "Stay," she hissed at me.

And so I stayed. It was cold, but even colder for Pan since she was wearing nothing but a bit of cotton and plastic. So I stood next to her as she lay in the weird looking bed thing and rubbed her arms and legs to warm her. Then out of boredom, we looked at the many babies posted on the bulletin board.

"Will our baby be ugly like those?" she asked me, looking a bit worried.

"Course not," I assured her. "You're beautiful and so will the baby."

Then the doctor arrived. It was a female and I felt myself relax. I didn't want no man touching my woman down there, no way.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, what a handsome couple you are!" she announced cheerfully. "I am Dr. Shinto and I will be doing your check ups from now and until your baby arrives."

The doctor started out by asking Pan about her health history and family healthy history. After that was all done and recorded, she continued on to a physical exam which included the checking of Pan's blood pressure, height, weight, and pelvic organs. Pan was told to put her legs up on the stirrups as Dr. Shinto flopped on a pair of gloves and proceeded with the pelvic check. It seemed quick and painless, but I couldn't help but squirm in my seat as Dr. Shinto probed about inside Pan and asking her, "Can you feel pressure here? And here? What about here?"

After she was done, she gave Pan a big smile and a pat, telling her that everything was in great shape. Then she started listing things that would make Pan's pregnancy as easy as possible by telling her the foods she should eat or should stay away from, the daily exercises she should do, etc. The doctor then took a sample of Pan's blood for testing and handed her a cup for an urination test and Pan hurried off to the restroom to pee.

Nearly ten minutes later, there was still no Pan and no pee. The doctor turned to me and asked me, "Is your wife having troubles, Mr. Briefs?"

I just shrugged. "Maybe she can't pee on command."

She chuckled a bit. "Maybe you should go check on her."

I walked down the hallway to the restroom Pan disappeared into and knocked on the door. "Pan, you there? Did you fall in?"

She opened the door for me and quickly shut it behind me. "Trunks, I can't do it."

"You can't pee? Do you need to borrow some of mine?" I grinned.

"No! I can't aim!" she held the cup out at me.

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

"I'll pee and wherever I squirt, you hold the cup out."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

I knelt beside Pan as she squatted over the toilet to pee, her arms on my shoulders for balance. She was right about the aim, she missed a couple of times and peed on my hand instead, but after awhile we successfully filled the cup up with Pan's warm pee. I capped the cup and washed my hands.

After we handed in Pan's pee cup, we were done and free to go. But that wasn't the end of it. Oh no. I have a lot to look forward to, for there will be many, many more check ups to go to.

Every month there is a check up until the seventh month.

Every two weeks from the seventh to the eighth.

Every week from the eighth until the baby is born.-_Trunks_

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**Entry Six:** _Pan's food cravings._

Today, Pan and I went for a walk in the park. The doctor recommended daily walks so walking we did.

On our way home, we passed by a Thai fast food restaurant. Pan started getting a bit antsy and jumpy about her sudden hunger so we went in and ordered a quick take-out for her to eat at home.

Then we passed by an Italian restaurant. Again, we went in for another take-out order.

And, _again_ when we ran into a Chinese restaurant.

Once we got home, the first thing Pan did was take out her boxes of take-out and grabbed a huge bowl. She mixed the Thai vegetable curry in with the Italian chicken Marsala along with the Chinese Peking duck and fried rice.

And viola. You get a dish of what looks to be mashed shit chunks. Oh, but Pan loved it. She was so happy while eating it and insisted that I take a bite. I told her I'd pass, but then she started to frown. So I took a bite just to see her smile and be happy again.

And I think my stomach is still mad at me for doing so.

-_Trunks_

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**Entry Seven:** _Mood Swings–the popcorn._

The placenta is forming and starts producing hormones that the baby needs throughout pregnancy. And that's what's causing my darling wife to cry at the most unexplainable things. Because of those blasted hormones, she won't stop crying and bickering at me.

Earlier today, Pan was flipping through the television in the living room while I was being the dutiful husband by making her some nacho cheese with very, _very_ spicy jalapeños. One moment I hear her laughing, and the next I nearly get knocked over because she threw herself on me, crying a river.

I thought maybe she was watching the news again and something horrible had happened, like a murder or a kidnapping, but it turns out it was merely a shoe commercial. A _shoe_ commercial. Something that I never thought she would go crazy over.

"Honey? Honey, it's just shoes," I calmed her.

"But they're _beautiful_ shoes," she cried.

I was going to open my mouth to state a smart-ass remark, something about her already having two hundred pairs, but seeing that she was in such emotional state, I thought it would be better to keep it shut. Instead, I offered her the nachos and she smiled at me happily, giving me a quick kiss and took the nachos back to the couch in front of the TV. A minute later, I hear her roaring with laughter. This time, it was a car commercial.

That was mood swing number one. Number _two_ was even worse.

I was getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth and doing the usual basics. Then I walked into the bedroom only to be knocked back at the gorgeous sight of Pan. She was already in bed with a pregnancy book in her lap. She looked beautiful...and delicious.

Feeling mischievous, I lifted the bed sheets and crawled underneath the covers. The feel of her silky olive skin was heavenly and I wanted to feel every single inch of it. Starting at her red painted toes, I lightly ran my lips over them and moved my way up as I kissed her. Already she was giggling and swatting at me through the covers. But it wasn't until I reached mid thigh when she turned evil.

"Trunks!" she screeched at me. "Go _shave_!"

I froze amidst my kissing her gorgeous legs and looked up at her stupidly. Did she just tell me to_ shave_?

But before I could open my mouth to speak, she squirmed out of my arms and stomped out of the room. She continued to stomp down the three flights of stairs and all the way down to the kitchen. Then I heard some slamming of the cabinets and minutes later, the aroma of popcorn perfumed the air. _Popcorn_? Since when did Pan Briefs chose _popcorn_ over sex? Or was it because of my unshaven chin that revolted her badly enough to go fix a bowl of popcorn at this ungodly hour? Hmm, my stubble of hairs never bothered her before.

Oh well. Looks like no sex tonight for Trunks. If I'm _lucky_, I'll get some popcorn.

Hopefully the next month won't be as bad on Pan. Well, actually I take that back. I know it will get worse...but please let the mood swings subside. _Please_.

Or I will be forced to cry myself.

The one and only,

_Trunks._


	2. Month Two

**Disclaimer—**I do _not_ own DB/Z/GT...it's not fair!

**Quick Note—**I'm very naughty when it comes to updates. I've been out playing more than sitting at home and being creative with the keyboard. Sorry to keep ya waiting. But thank you for all the cookies (reviews)! I ate 'em all.

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**Entry Eight: **_Feed the need_.

And here we are, well into the second month. By now, the baby has arms, legs, organs, and all the works. And how do I know all this? Pan has blessed herself with a brand new library of baby books and novels on pregnancy she has been buying all the past month.

Every day she would sit down and open up a new book and, if I'm around, she'll make me sit down and read with her. So I now bear the knowledge of how a baby is developed.

Oh, and get this: No longer is the baby called an _embryo_, but a _fetus_. Pronounced almost like "_feed-us_." And that is exactly what my little wife has been constantly saying these past several days.

"Trunks, babe, we're hungry," she would say with a bright smile. "Feed us!"

And off I'd run to the kitchen to scour up anything edible for her to eat. Dude. Pregnant women vacuum up anything that's suitable for eating. Or _not_. A couple of days ago, Pan accidentally forgot that the milk was overdue and made herself a grand bowl of Lucky Charms. Three hours later, she wasn't so lucky.

Never have I seen anyone eat so much. I mean, _I_ am the king of food here. A year ago, I beat Goten and Ubuu in a eating contest at a cook off. I can finish over a dozen beers in a heart beat. I can woof down a one pound burger in one whole bite. But now, I am outdone by my little wife who is _half_ my size.

Well…later on I'll be half _her_ size.

Signed, _Trunks_

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**Entry Nine: **_Knock on wood_.

I believe all the cashiers at the neighborhood grocery store know me by face and name due to the _billions_ of times I've been there recently. Every night at approximately three a.m., Pan would roll over, snuggle her nose in my neck to butter me up, and then pop the question of:

"Honey, would you be kind enough to get me some granola bars with hot Tabasco sauce?"

Or:

"Jalapeño chips in garlic dip sound good right about now, don't you think?"

This time, she wanted vanilla ice cream with grape jelly. I'm beginning to wonder if it's just the pregnancy thing that's making my wife crave the nastiest combinations of food…or if it's the baby that's demanding all this. Hopefully, it's the first option. (Knock on wood.)

Why don't I take her along with me, you ask? Good question. If anything, I try to keep my wife _away_ from the grocery store as much as possible…or else she'd buy the entire warehouse and stock up on _vanilla ice cream_ and _grape jelly_.

But…I assure you now that it's all good, my friend. After I do a quick run to the store and return with her bizarre food combinations, she lavers me with plenty of kisses and I rub her satisfied belly, our baby, to sleep. And that's always priceless.

Well…enough chitchat. I've some grocery shopping to do. Hmm, this is actually the third night she's requested vanilla and grape jelly. Our baby is probably gonna turn out vanilla and purple jelly-ish.

Should I be scared? (Knock on wood.)

Signed, _T.V.B._

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**Entry Ten: **_Sleeping Beauty_

I woke up this morning to find my wife still sleeping next to me.

Usually, Pan was always up at six a.m. sharp while I slept in to about eight since I had to be at work at nine. Right now, it was 7:30 and she was still snoozing away. I gave her a kiss and she stirred a bit, but was still fast asleep. I let her sleep while I took my morning shower and got ready for work.

And after I was done with all that, I returned to the bedroom to see she was _still_ sleeping. Wow. Light-sleeper Pan managed to sleep through my loud showering and out-of-sync singing.

A miracle.

I let her sleep doze on; it's been awhile since I got a chance to watch the angel sleep. Pan is as amusing awake as she is unconscious. During sleep she'd randomly scrunch up her face, almost as if she was having a grotesque nightmare, and her limps would be deliciously spread out everywhere, butt square in the air with face mooshed against the mattress. And that is why we have a king sized bed.

But it wasn't until I was rummaging through the drawers that I noticed I had no clean underwear. I _had_ to wake Pan.

"Pan?" I rubbed her hip.

She rubbed her eyes and woke up, smiling up at me beautifully and held her arms up to be hugged.

I hugged her, but I had to state my predicament as well, "Pan, I have no underwear."

"Oh, babe, I'm sorry," she told me. "I was feeling so tired yesterday and took a nap, and I guess I completely forgot when I woke up. It's washed but it's still in the dryer, just do down to the utility room and grab it."

The utility room: an entirely unfamiliar location for a man who's never done a spot of laundry before in his life. Martha, our house maid, comes only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I could have asked her, but today was Wednesday. I'm embarrassed to say this, but I did a bit of scavenger hunting in my own _home_ for a pair of boxer briefs. I ended up in numerous of places like the basement, one of the coat closets, but I made it on the third try.

I was feeling all cocky with pride in finding the utility room until I opened the dryer…and nothing was there. I opened the washer, and there were my clothes...all soggy. Apparently, my wife _also_ forgot to put the clothes in the dryer. But it's too late to turn back now. With the courage and boldness of a proud stubborn man, I pulled out the first boxer I grabbed and put it on.

And went to work in moist underpants.

Signed, _Trunks_

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**Entry Eleven: **_Enhanced breasts!_

Isn't it every man's dream to have their wives grow bigger tits? I don't know if it's just me, but I think Pan has grown up a size…or two. They're _huge_.

Pan dropped a spoon and bent down to pick it up. And I think my jaw hit the table.

Too bad it's for the baby and not for me.

Signed, _Trunks Briefs _

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**Entry Twelve: **_Shopping for baby stuff…and stuff._

Who says the fathers have it easy? I will condemn all those raging feminists who state women have the hard end of the baby-bargain.

Today was a peaceful Sunday…and Sundays are meant for sleeping in and being a bum. But…I was deprived of this grand leisure time by being woken up at eight a.m.

EIGHT A.M. on a beautiful SUNDAY.

"Trunks, hon," Pan shook me. "It's time to get up."

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"No."

"Did someone from the office call?"

"No."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Trunks!" she thumped me. "Get up, now!"

And…I was up. I nearly missed the toilet peeing, but I was up. I nearly fell asleep brushing my teeth, but I was up. Up and driving Pan to a baby store at freaking eight in the morning.

No caffeine. Pan wouldn't allow me to have my wonderful Iced Caramel Macchiato since she wasn't allowed to consume any caffeine. But what's the point in getting decaf when it's the _caffeine_ that jump starts my system? But then I figured…Pan'll only be pregnant for another seven months or so. Seven more months with no consumption of caffeine or alcohol. May the Lord be with me.

Tots N' Toys was…delightful.

Yes, if I was to pick one word to describe it, it would have to be that. Right as I stepped foot into the children's department store, it was like a whole new world. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. But I felt like I grew ten times my size, everything was mini sized and compact. It was…cute. No, no, _delightful_. Grown men don't use the word, ahem, _cute_.

Anyways, Pan was glowing. She looked so happy and excited, pointing out all the baby essentials and products. Then she gasped and picked up a contraption that looked like something you'd milk a cow with. The machine was in a small discreet black case with a long plastic tube that connected two plastic suction thingies with a little bottle attached at the bottom.

"It's a Medela breast pump!" she beamed.

"You…pump your _breasts_ with these?" I asked. "What, why – to make em bigger or something?"

"No, no, I can't breast feed in public, so this machine pumps the milk from my breasts into a bottle for the baby."

She pressed a button on the little motor machine set on display and the plastic suction thingies started to move. Woah, I was amazed. I didn't know we could milk our woman like we milked our cows. And I can't wait to see Pan 'milk' herself.

"It's portable too and it's lightweight," she informed, placing it into the cart.

Pan sure did her homework on reading up on baby supplies, she knew exactly which brand was the best rated and highly recommended. And also the most expensive. The baby industry must be the wealthiest in persuading the gullible mothers-to-be with all the crucial needs of a baby. I mean, come on, there's a trash can made especially for _diapers_?

"Pan, why do we need that thing," I pointed to the device that looked like an oversized thermos.

"It's a Diaper Genie," she told me.

"What's it do?"

"You throw dirty diapers in them."

"Can't you throw them in a trash can?"

"Yes, but it stinks."

"Then flush it down the toilet."

"Trunks! You can't flush diapers down the toilet," she laughed at me. "This contains the smell."

"Does baby poo stink that bad?"

"Don't you remember changing Orhi's diapers?"

The horrid memory of Orhi's powerful poo stench rushed to my head oh too quickly. I swear, one whiff of baby poo will render any man unconscious. And that ain't gonna happen to me.

"Done deal."

And onward we progressed through the endless maze of baby utilities. Pann said that she was saving the expensive stuff, like the baby car seat, the baby crib, the baby stroller, for people to give her at the baby shower. And how many times did I say _baby_ in that one sentence?

With the lack of caffeine, I strayed behind a bit while Pan was examining the state of the art: unleakable baby bottles. Seeing that she was going to take awhile, I found myself a comfy looking beanbag chair and made myself comfortable. After a few minutes, I think I drifted off.

Then, out of nowhere, a football smacked me upside the head. It hurt.

If I wasn't at least half conscious, I would have toppled over. But no…I was wide awake now with a bit of steam flarin' out outta my nostrils. My head hurt, hurt real bad, and I was mad. And I caught sight of my prime suspect.

A small little bugger who looked to be around five years of age, short black hair and blue eyes. He pointed at me and babbled something and then scurried off, laughing hysterically. I ran after him with clawed hands.

"Hey!" I caught sight of him.

The boy laughed and continued running, turning and streaking down the next aisle over. And on and on we ran like cat and mouse. The kid was fast, but if I wasn't so tired, I could've caught him…

"Trunks!" Pan called.

"Yamato!" hollered a man from behind her.

It was Yamcha. _Dammit_.Just when I promised not to make a fool of myself again.

"Trunks-man! Whoa!" Yamcha hollered in surprise.

And yes, I was surprised too. Here I am carrying a bright red waffle bat chasing after something that's the size of my thigh.

"Daddy! Daddy! It's the devil! It's the _devil_!" the little shrimp squealed as he ran passed me to Yamcha.

"Hey little man, Mr. Briefs isn't the devil, he's a daddy too!" Yamcha ruffled his son's hair.

The kid looked up at me with wide eyes. OO

"Don't give the kid a heart attack," I said, raising an eyebrow at the kid.

"Trunks, were you chasing the little Yamato around?" Pan looked peeved.

Yamato nodded his head fiercely and stuck his tongue out at me.

Uh oh, let's brace ourselves.

"Uh, no honey, we were…we were just playing."

Yamcha roared with laughter. "See Pan? He'll do fine in fatherhood. You two can even baby-sit little Yamato here if ya like."

The kid shot me an evil grin. It frightened me.

"Um, I don't think he takes a liking to me," I said.

"Nonsense! My Yamato here can hang around anybody," he gave me a hard slap on the back. "He's my own little assistant on the baseball field and I've been teaching him a couple of fighting moves too. Come on Yamato, my boy! Show Mr. Briefs one of your moves."

And then the kid kicked me. It hurt almost as bad as the football to the head, but I stood my ground like a proud man.

"Charming." That will be my second bruise for the day.

"Oh, Trunks, he's so cute and fierce," Pan chuckled.

"_Fierce_, yes," I grunted.

"All right Briefs I'll let you get back to your baby shoppin'," Yamcha held out his hand and I shook it, and then leaned over to give Pan a hug.

We said our goodbyes and Pan bent down and held out her arms to the little boy. "Bye, bye Yamato."

Yamato run into her arms and gave her a fat kiss on the cheek. Then he looked up at me and grinned at me, showing his teeth. And I bent down to his level and grinned back, showing _my_ teeth. He gave one petrified look and ran away.

It seems as though I'm the epitome of trepidation in the eyes of children. But that's okay, that's okay. No worries. I'll buff my kid up to fear no fear.

Bwhaha. Ha…ha.

Signed, _T. Briefs_

o

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**Entry Thirteen: **_The Aura of Evilness._

Today was the first heated argument we've had in a long time. The argument was actually over my obsession of hair. My mother just came back from her trip—which was one month over at the Americas for a business contract and, as usual, Bra threw a private dinner party with a few close friends. We were invited and we were running late…because I was doing my hair.

I swear, I usually never take longer than five minutes on the 'doo', but tonight my hairs weren't swinging my way. I usually let it flop down in front of my eyes. But my hair grows super long, super fast. And now, it was a just an inch over my shoulder's, which meant I had to spend extra time figuring out what I would do with it. I think I'm going to need a haircut very soon…

"Trunks, how much longer are you going to take?" she looked pretty steamed up.

"Hey, hey, don't interrupt the process of hairstyling," I told her. "It takes massive amounts of concentration."

She looked bored. Then said, "Let me do it."

"Pan, babe, every stroke of the comb is crucial. I'm sorry, but you just don't have the skill."

"I have skill!"

"No, look at your hair," I flipped a flock of her shiny black locks. "No style."

She gasped. "I should punch your right in your nose for that stupid comment!"

I wiggled my eyebrows at her.

"Whatever, you just need to stop wasting so much damn time," she snapped. "Just tie the freaking mop of hair up already and lets go!"

"Mop of hair?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Oh, baby…you hurt me badly," I shot her a cunning smile. I looked her up and down. And she looked pretty damn good in that little white dress. It'd look even better on the ground.

"Trunks, _no_," she said, her eyes wide. I guess she noticed my staring at her hips and chest.

She backed away from me cautiously, and I could see a smile slowly forming on her lips. And that made me want her even more, her deceptive appearance _kills_ me every time. She was like…a seductive mistress with a mask of an angel. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me and pressed my lower half against hers. She giggled against my lips as I…clandestinely undid her back zipper and slipped my hand in to touch a bit of her…ahhh.

Then she pushed against me and the magic was gone. "Trunks, we're _late_."

Typical Pan. Extinguishing the fire as soon as she lit it.

Wish me luck,   
_Trunks_.


End file.
